


Drabbles

by okaywhateverokayyes



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Fluff, Laughter, M/M, Minor Violence, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-05 22:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10318814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaywhateverokayyes/pseuds/okaywhateverokayyes
Summary: Happy. It's a relative term.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to preface this by saying that this happens WAY post-season 1. If this show gets a season 4 or maybe even 5, and if Deran changes his tune- this is what I intended. This is a problematic relationship and I won't romanticize it nor will I ignore the problematic aspect of it. It is what it is

 

“Nosy fucker.” Deran spat as he darted his eyes to glare at the guy he had just shared a brief banter with. Adrian lurched forward as Deran glided in his direction, his attention subliminally dissipating.

“He probably can hear you.” Adrian noticed Deran retracting his hand in a languid manner, cracking his fingers fastidiously before dropping both his hands to his sides. Deran mumbled incoherent words under his breath before his growl tore through the vicinity.

“Do I look stupid?” Deran hissed.

Adrian feigned a frown as he replied with a ‘no’.

Deran’s brows rose “Yeah. Hilarious.” His voice is dry as he snapped, “I’m not _that_ stupid.”

“Well that’s debatable.”

“You’re a miserable fuck.”

“Ooh.” Adrian was impressed by the vernacular, “Someone rubbing off on you?”

Deran snorted, “You keep that up. Soon it won’t be me.” Adrian noticed the crack on Deran’s phone, reached forward to remove it from Deran’s grip before shoving it in front of his eyes as he assessed how deep it was. It was from the sensor to the control. A sizeable crack but definitely fixable.

Deran frowned as Adrian shoved it back in his hand.

“Against you.” Deran muttered as they caught each other’s gazes.

“Hm?”

Deran’s lips parsed as he repeated, lowly but with just as much intent, “Soon it won’t be _me_ rubbing against _you_.”

Adrian has to stifle a chuckle. He also has to wonder how Deran has gotten to the point where he’s making these inapt attempts at being overtly fond. Adrian was also aware of the fact that pointing it out would just mean Deran would retract into the shell he was comfortable in.

It wasn’t as if Adrian was comfortable with it. But he wasn’t uncomfortable by it.

He was just surprised that it was spontaneous. Natural. Unapologetically genuine. Sometimes he stiffens in response but he has to remember that even the notion meant something inexplicable. He was momentarily uncomfortable but overwhelmingly welcoming of the gestures.

It was different. Which was better than what they’re used to.

“Yeah, well.” Adrian held the flame of the lighter at the tip of the bud, flicking the lighter a mere two times before it caught on. He took a brief draw before exhaling it’s vapor. His throat felt slightly drier but he also felt his nerves relaxing the moment the smoke perforated his nostrils.

“A complete sentence has a verb, a subject-“ Adrian noticed from his periphery the way which Deran lifted his foot from above the pavement but even he was not prepared as it was collided against his ankle. He recoiled as Deran nudged him with his elbow soon after.

“Fuck _you_.”

“M’sorry,” Adrian chuckled, rubbing at his skin. The pain doesn’t reverberate and is stagnanted at his ankle. He’s thankful quietly because he’s well aware of how much more inflicting it could have been. If he was being more honest, it didn’t sting as much as it felt like a jab from a needle.

Adrian shifted away from the latch of the door as Deran slides beside him, their shoulders barely grazing each others’.

Adrian leveled the cigarette between his index and thumb fingers, knocking the dabs with his other hand before handing it over to Deran. Deran glanced at the bud in front of his vision but he doesn’t make an attempt to take hold.

“What?” Adrian mumbled as he nudged his shoulder.

“Sorry.”

Adrian feels the ache persist in his throat.

“Why?”

“Didn’t mean to,” Deran rubbed his hands against each other, “you know.”

Adrian stared at his ankle.

“Didn’t feel a thing.”

Deran lifted his head up and Adrian has to stifle the gasp that wants to escape his lips. Deran’s eyes are of a hue that softens his entire face.

“Really.” Adrian found his voice as he looks away, “Not even for a second.”

Deran’s eye color resumed back to it’s original hue.

There was a smile playing on his lips but Adrian sees it falter just as quickly.

“Yeah well, fuck _you_.” Deran’s voice was soft and void of any malice. Adrian blinked his eyes as Deran removed the cigarette from his grasp and takes a long inhale.

Adrian coughed into his elbow to cease the ache that dulled.

It was a look that Adrian saw very often but it was also becoming overtly obvious that it was reserved for him only.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s always lent his hand out. For once, he just wanted someone to reach back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to preface this by saying that this will shift and back and forth between Adrian (surname not given) and Deran Cody. This was something that just came to me and I couldn’t help myself as I have been listening to the soundtrack ‘language of our future’ as I wrote this.
> 
> **LISTEN TO IT AS YOU READ IT SO YOU UNDERSTAND MY FRAME OF THOUGHTS/FEELINGS as I wrote this**
> 
> Music: The Language of Our Future: Woman in Gold" (soundtrack)  
> PART A: Adrian's POV

Adrian swiped his thumb against his lower lip, stifled a hiss when his nail grazes into his cut. He could taste the blood curdling in his mouth, tilted his head as he spat what he could accrue in his spit. His teeth started to ache at the effort, and he has to rub his free hand against his jaw. There was drops of blood flowing from his nostrils, the dampness started to make him woozy.

He lifted his elbow and wiped his hand against his nose, the stain began to smear rather than disappear. He felt the dampness spread across his checks and some against the palm of his hands. He wondered how or why he was even bleeding out to the extent he was but tilts his head back when he felt the next wave of nausea.

The blood percolates into his nasal, so he leveled his head until the motion dissipated.

He felt an overwhelming feeling to just close his eyes. To just lay back. To just stop the pounding throbs ricocheting off of the confines of his skull. He wanted to. But he was also aware of the fact that he had to get back to his place. He needed to walk just a little more. Maybe more than just a little. But there was no way in hell he was going to just give in. The thought of waking up in the middle of a pier made him more nauseous than he had already felt.

The thought of someone finding him likes this-he couldn’t even wrap his mind around it. He almost chuckled at the fact that he was levying his options when he could barely keep his eyes but groaned as the motion causes a dwelling pain to pound against his ribs. He reflexively placed his palm against his stomach, believing it would somehow assuage the prickles he felt.

It doesn’t.

He had been mugged.

He should have been expecting it.

He really should have been. The moment he felt something was wrong. The moment he decided to walk through a dimly lit street. He just thought it would be a short cut. He wasn’t thinking of anything else. So he walked onto a street and was a little thrown back by the fact that almost every street light was barely working. He didn’t think much of it.

But he should have.

At the same time, he had felt his grogginess catch up to him.

The same unrelenting tiredness that creeped up on him as his own blood start to spurt out from his mouth. He gurgled once more before spitting the contents. He wiped his hand once more against his mouth before wiping what was smeared on his flesh against his shorts.

He wondered how he looked like

Probably a mess.

Probably would have some calling the cops on him.

He shielded one hand over his eyes as he blinked away, steering away from any lamp lights. He noticed the familiar shake shack that was about eight blocks away from his place. It gives him much needed strength as he picks up his pace to the best of his ability.

His eyes were glued to the floor as this unwavering sense to just sleep hit him in an uncomfortable manner. He tried to keep himself awake, shaking his head in a quick manner. Hoping that the movement would somehow counteract the drowsiness.

It doesn’t work.

But it does sting when he decided to crash his now-fisted hand against his shoulder. He felt the pang but he also felt it in his stomach as he bellowed over, falling to the ground. He doesn’t have time to place both his palms out in front of him so he braced himself mentally as he crashed. The impact added onto the pain he had already been feeling.

There’s an excruciating ache that started to reverberate from the side he had fallen on, creeping up from his lower back all the way to his neck.

He grunted as he tried to lift himself up but the throbbing is too much. He falls down, doesn’t even make an effort to catch his head as it hits the pavement.

So he stayed there. On the slab of cement. It was a little rugged and the harshness of it does nothing but prickle his skin. He wanted to flip over but he knew that he couldn’t muster up enough energy to do so.

So he gritted his teeth against each other in an effort to stifle the discomfort.

The irony being that it added on more to the level of uncomfortability he had felt.

He wanted to laugh. Slightly. He didn’t even feel the need to cry out for help. Seemed rather futile. He knew that from here and up until his place, there were about just as much luck for him to be bitten by a snake than actually come across someone.

One of the reasons he had even chosen to live somewhere like this.

It was aloof from everything else. From _everybody_ else.

He wanted that but it was much more than that.

He needed that.

He didn’t regret it at the moment persay, but he also was painfully aware of the fact that if he had closed his eyes, he wasn’t sure if he would even open them up again. Maybe he was being dramatic. Maybe it was the conglomeration of the aching in every crevice of his body, or the blood seeping from nose and from his mouth. Maybe it was the fact that he felt needles prickling into his skin or the way his vision blurred everytime he had an effort to just keep them up.

Maybe it was just all that or maybe it was none of it at all.

If he was being honest, the ache ceased. There was just so much of it that he doesn’t feel it anymore. It’s only when he sees the crimson color slabbed across his hands. Or the way the taste of it inundated his mouth.

I guess he would have been better off he hadn’t resisted.

And why he resisted, he didn’t know? Didn’t have more than thirty bucks on him. That was money he could spare. Especially if he had known that this was the state he would have been in.

But the thought of not putting up a fight?

There were many things that were out of his hand. That he was keenly aware of. This was another thing that he knew he should have relinquished the moment the guy had drawn up his fist but giving in seemed like giving up.

It wasn’t like he was just going to lose his money if he didn’t refuse. It was as if he had felt like he was giving up something much more irrecoverable. A part of him that he wasn’t ready to lose _ever_.

He didn’t want to put out.

He didn’t want to give in.

But he knew that he was deflecting the moment the first fist came colliding against his nose.

It doesn’t stop him from throwing a punch back.

Because he had a point to prove. It didn’t matter that he had found himself bleeding profusely from his nostrils. Or having the blood curdle in his mouth. Or feeling the need to vomit as he could barely stand up. Or the ache that pounds against his chest and his lower back.

It was nothing compared to what would have been if he hadn’t put up a fight.

He didn’t have to won. That wasn’t the point.

He just wanted to know that he could still put up a front.  That he was capable of doing that. Leaving unscathed was besides the point. Knowing that he could resist the fear to resist, that was what made the discomfort dissipate.

That fear didn’t grapple him as he much as it thought it had.

That he wasn’t a coward.

That he was capable of doing something for himself.

Standing up for himself.

Fighting for himself.

Not cowering.

That had meant something.

His thoughts were cut short when he hears a drawling growl. The voice gets more distinct and he realized that whoever it was, they had been saying his name. He shifted his head up slightly to take notice of who it had been but this stab shot through his back that made him stagnate.

The voice is grainy but it started to become more clear as the person had walked closer. He felt someone raking their hand under his pit, wished he could tell them to stop because there’s an ache that shoots out from underneath.

A hiss barely escaped Adrian’s lips.

“Shit, Adrian.”

He recognized that voice, instantly.

It was Baz.

He was, even in the state he had been, confused by that. 

Baz.

Being where he had been.

For what?

“It’s Adrian!” Baz mellowed, his voice pivoting as if he had been saying it to someone else.

Adrian heard shuffling of feet aimed in his direction. He felt the breeze of dust that splayed across his face, noticed the two other pairs of feet in his periphery. There were two others.

One had worn slippers and the other had been wearing sneakers. The worn out adidas kind. As if it hadn’t mattered what they worn. He wanted to focus on the one who had worn the slippers but he feels the stabbing twinge in his throat that diverted his attention.

And it’s the last thing he sees before his vision blackens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next part will be in someone else’s POV. And so on, and so forth.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: okaywhateverokayyes
> 
> Hit me up with any prompts. Or to talk about how methane is contributing immensely to climate change.


End file.
